Beautiful Disasters
by NerdHerderette
Summary: Being born with a silver spoon in your mouth and living in Manhattan places a lot of privilege at your feet, and Brendol Hux, Jr and Ben Solo make sure they take advantage of every single one.But when Hux challenges Ben to bed class virgin Rey,their plan spirals out of control, forever changing their relationship and the lives of those around them. Dangerous Liaisons/Gossip girl/SW
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 : The Best Laid Plans**

 **Summary:**

Ben thinks back to how it all started. Was it the beginning, or the beginning of the end?

 **[excerpt]:**  
Ben knows what it's like to have Phasma's mile-long legs and viselike thighs wrapped around his waist with nothing on besides a pair of 4-inch spiked, black, Alarc leather and mesh Louboutins digging into his hips, and he knows that if their best friend can't turn Hux onto the straight and narrow, no girl ever will.

Ben whispers. "You think that your ass-that sex with you-is worth a hundred fifty grand?!"

Hux laughs, goading Ben. "What, you think you're going to lose?"

 **~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~**

 ** _April, 2017_ **

Ben fought the wave of nausea which was slowly working its way from his gut to his throat, that acidic mix of orange juice and fear on an empty stomach as the elevator made its smooth ascent. He stared out the windowed walls, the greenery of Central Park becoming more visible as the cabs and pedestrians shrunk in the distance, crawling sluggishly in the afternoon rush hour, inching forward and burning fuel yet moving nowhere. He imagined there would be some incessant honking or angry shouts, but things were quiet in the soundproof cage, its four walls effectively shutting everything out aside from the gentle pinging which announced the passing of each floor.

The ride was slow, yet not slow enough. He watched as the tree line disappeared from under his feet, dust motes streaming in a haze of sunlight, blue sky and glass like stardust against his skin. His hands were sweaty, the weight of his keys digging into his palms, the sharp metal ridges imprinting into his flesh and onto his memory and reminding him once again of everything that he had to lose.

He raised his hand, tempted to press it against the streakless glass. It may very well be the last time he ever took this ride up, and he was suddenly filled with the crazy desire to leave some kind of a mark, even though its existence would be quickly scrubbed away, sanitized before he could even set foot out the door and back onto the streets.

He wondered if that was what Hux would do to him as well.

His best friend. So beautiful. So petty, so vindictive and so absolutely unforgiving.

Ben squeezed his eyes tight, a closed-eye hallucination of pink crisscrossed by floating capillaries, illuminated by the sun.

The girl was supposed to be inconsequential.

Hux was going to be _furious_.

How did things get so fucked up?

The elevator continued to ping, the numbers lighting at the 25th floor, then PH1 and PH2, before coming to a stop.

The doors swooshed open expectantly. Ben stood there for a second more before finally stepping out.

There was nowhere left to go but down.

 **~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~**

 ** _October 7, 2016_**

Ben shifted gears and made the right from Park Avenue onto 82nd Street, the car's sleek, silver chassis turning the corner low and fast. It was a gorgeous October afternoon, the warmth of the sun battling with the crispness of the air. He shrugged out of his blazer and loosened his tie, happy there was no practice today and eager to get a head start on the three day holiday weekend. There were a lot of people milling about the streets, and the joggers and bikers were out in full force, their trim bodies, firm abs and narrowed hips boldly displayed in a rainbow of day-glo lycra and spandex.

Ben smirked. He knew that only those who were the most fit, who wanted to be _seen_ , would choose such a route, in front of the crowds of Central Park and Museum Mile.

Not that there was anything wrong with that. Wanting to be seen was something Ben knew quite a bit about. Take his car, for instance. While his parents had insisted on buying him something "environmentally friendly" after he received his license, there was no way he was going to fold his 6-foot, 3-inch frame in some tiny, tree-hugging hybrid box. He had briefly considered a Tesla, but when he came upon the BMW i8, it was possibly the first time in his life that he believed in love at first sight.

He had never been surer of his choice. His parents bought him the car without argument, assuaging their guilt at how badly they had fucked up his life with their constant bickering and barely concealed disgust for one another while indulging in their desire to show off their politically correct eco-friendliness. Whatever their reasons, Ben came out the winner, walking away with 3,200 pounds and 357-horsepower of heart-stopping punch and spice grey leather that felt as great underneath his hands as it did underneath his feet.

The icing on the cake were the looks which the car inspired: the unconcealed, open-mouthed jealousy of his peers, and the slack-jawed stares of the rest of the population who thought that having an attention-grabbing, extravagance of a ride which cost nearly as much as the average middle-American home was just too much for a 17-year old without a job and with even littler responsibility.

Ben frowned as he spotted the line of cars near Hux's apartment, breathing a sigh of relief when he found a space. He pulled up closer. Twelve feet of unused city pavement, its yellowed paint flaking against the speckled asphalt, declaring it a 'No Standing' zone.

Ben glanced at his glove compartment and the pile of unpaid tickets which currently lay crumpled up against the unopened car manuals and his iPhone.

He had just enough room to pull in going forward, cutting off a cyclist as he edged closer to the line of tightly parked cars. The guy looked furious, his chest heaving angrily against his yellow and black print jersey. The upper half of his face was hidden under his helmet and behind his sunglasses, seemingly immobile, while the lower half flushed angrily against his tanned skin, his throat moving up and down and his mouth opening wide as it formed the word _"Asshole."_

Ben stepped out from behind the car's dihedral doors, slowly giving the biker the once-over before following it up with a two fingered salute. He turned and headed up the block to Hux, waiting a minute before looking back. By that time, the cyclist was long gone while Ben's car remained unscathed, its diplomatic plates a brilliant white and glaringly visible against the car's metallic paint and shadowline trim.

 **~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~**

"Hi, Daniels. I'm here to see Armitage."

Ben stood by as the doorman phoned Hux. He liked Daniels, perhaps the most out of all the ones who manned the entrance to the building. He was the consummate professional, polite and smooth, and always treated Ben courteously, whether Ben came dressed in his school uniform or in his trainers and jeans, the same as he would to the fifty five-year old CEO in a three-piece suit. Daniels was unflappable, never raising an eyebrow even when Ben stumbles into the lobby in the early hours of the morning, pissed and high, hanging onto Hux and the new girl (or guy) du jour.

Daniels' egalitarianism was also an endless source of frustration, because Ben knew that he was better off than the majority who entered here by half.

Daniels nodded, leading Ben to a separate elevator as he keyed in his access to the penthouse floors. Ben hummed on the ride up, the doors sliding open silently as he reached his destination, the apartment's entrance filled with bright light and clean-edged lines and a slight sterility.

"Over here, on the terrace," Hux called out.

Hux was lounging carelessly in his chair. He hadn't bothered changing out of his uniform yet, although the the top two buttons of his shirt were now undone and his tie loosened. He leaned back, propping a bent knee against the corner table as he removed a Gauloises Brunes from its blue and silver packaging. There was a quick flash of pink from his tongue as he placed the cigarette between his lips. His thumb rolled over the ball of the lighter, its flame lapping at the end of the dark tobacco leaf before he released it, the paper and dried leaf hissing under its red glow.

Ben wrinkled his nose at the strong smell.

"That's gross, especially being unfiltered and all. You know you're going to be dead before fifty if you keep smoking that shit."

Hux just looked at Ben coolly, taking a slow, gentle drag.

"Well, I guess I'd better make the best out of the next thirty-two, then." Hux patted the seat next to him. "Don't just stand there. Put your stuff down." He blew out a large puff of smoke in Ben's direction. "We'll get sick together."

Ben plopped down next to Hux, fidgeting around the bottom of his messenger bag until he pulled out a baggie and some rolling papers from the inside zippered pocket. He wonders briefly if he should ask Hux's permission first. Even though they're on the rooftop terrace and pretty high up, there are a couple of taller buildings several blocks to the east, and Ben's pretty sure he's seen some people peering down on the activities that have gone on here in the past, especially at night

He looks up at Hux through the fringe of his hair which falls down untamed over the front of his face to see if Hux is going to say anything, but the redhead has on the same placid expression, as if he couldn't care less what Ben is doing, so Ben distributes the mix evenly and neatly over the paper and deftly rolls it outwards with his thumbs and forefingers until it's firm and tight.

He leans forward. Hux looks slightly put out but flicks on the lighter for Ben anyway. He leans back sighing, the air filling up with a sweet, dank and earthy scent.

Hux breaks the silence.

"What do you think of Rey Kenobi?"

Ben looks up languidly, his pupils already beginning to dilate.

"Hmmmm?"

Hux fixes Ben with a stare. "Rey Kenobi. What. do. you. think. of. her?"

Ben looks at Hux with a half-lidded gaze.

"Mmm. I don't, really. I mean, she's on the fencing team with me, but we don't really hang or anything." Ben didn't know much about her, but from what he's seen, the girl was a little too clean cut, and her unflappable optimism and sense of propriety a bit too much for his tastes.

Hux looked thoughtful.

"You know," he drawled. "After what happened last month...it's rumored that she's the last remaining virgin in our class."

He let the words linger in the air, the pungent smell of tobacco and sweet weed circling around them in a haze.

"Mmmm," Ben answers noncommittally in response. He really doesn't want to think about Rey Kenobi right now.

Hux looks at Ben suddenly, with a gleam in his eye. In hindsight, Ben should have paid more attention.

"What's the most valuable thing that you own, Benjamin Solo?"

Ben laughs. "That's easy. My car."

Hux shrugs at the answer and says " _Hmmm_ ," under his breath, as if he's in disagreement about its worth.

Ben huffs. "What?"

Hux incompletely stamps out his cigarette, not looking at Ben.

"It's a bit flashy, don't you think." He phrases it in a way that's not a question, but a statement of fact.

Ben looks at him, hurt. The car is his pride and joy, and its flashiness is one of the things that he happens to love about it, and damn it, if Hux doesn't like it, he doesn't have to ride in it again, either. There are plenty of others who would gladly take his place.

Instead he comes back with, "Well, how about you? What's the most valuable thing you own?"

Hux looks up, his green eyes bright, a small, knowing smile on his lips.

"My virginity."

Ben chokes, coughing furiously as the smoke fills his lungs too quickly.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Hux?" he sputters. "You've been sleeping around for years. 'Virginity,' my ass."

Hux looked at Ben. "No, actually more like _my_ ass. I've never bottomed."

And with that, he smiles slyly, flashing those white teeth of his with a wicked look in his eyes, and Ben feels his cheeks flame and the air leave him in a rush as he whispers " _Oh_ ," and he's instantly hard.

Ben's _wanted_ Hux for at least the last four years-possibly more, although he may not have realized it at the time, during his budding sexual self-awareness. But there was always the threat of a physical relationship destroying their friendship, and up until now, the most that ever happened between the two was a blowjob last month, the collected winnings of one of their competitive bets. It was the first time that Ben had ever experienced the heaviness of Hux's cock against his tongue, or felt the stretch of his lips around Hux's delicious girth. He's jerked off in the weeks in between to the memories of his scent, the tickle of his hair while he swallowed him whole, and the salty, bitter taste of his come down his throat, yet Ben knows that it isn't enough, that there is still so much more. That he _wants_ so much more.

He doesn't know _why_ -or _how_ -Hux makes him feel this way. Ben's is a diplomat's son, with a lineage and connections to European royalty for God's sake, yet this product of a nouveau riche American entrepreneur and a British woman addicted to the idea of serial matrimony makes Ben feel as inexperienced and lacking as the kid who's relegated to taking the number 7 train to school every day. With Hux, Ben feels self-conscious, and can't quite shake the idea that he'll never be good enough.

Ben's known that he's _needed_ Hux for the last eight years. He knew it from the minute Hux had walked in with the teacher in front of their fifth grade class, a stranger in a new country and in a new school, standing in front of a group of foreigners with his gangly confidence and grace. He had come from England after living with his newly remarried mom, who had been busy gallivanting across Europe, too self-absorbed to spend the necessary time with a curious, ten-year old boy. Or so he said. It was also rumored that Hux had gotten himself into a spot of trouble, and that his dad needed him closer to home. But whatever the reasons, here he was, and here he stayed, his accented tones now blending through the years into a mix of Yank and Brit, his beautifully lithe and adolescent lines and sharp features adding to his intrigue in what's added up to be a gorgeous and utterly unattainable package.

Ben found a way to relate, growing up in a family where they frequently traveled, and where his mother or father were gone so often it was almost like living with a single parent. But the difference was that Ben's parents never disrupted his learning or his life with their personal dalliances, and his parents had always surrounded him with people who grounded him and who were available to take care of him in their stead. Hux, on the other hand, was dragged from place to place, city to city, country to country, until he was afraid to make connections, unable to put down roots.

For Hux, influence was everything. Trust was illusory. Permanence was non-existent.

Right now, his pale green eyes were boring into Ben's, framed beneath his long golden lashes and an arched brow.

"I have a proposition," he starts, and Ben's breath catches in his throat, because he knows that whatever it is, it's going to be good.

"I want you to take Rey's virginity, and then break her heart."

Ben winces. He doesn't know the girl-he doesn't even like her very much, really, but it seems a bit harsh.

"Why?"

"Let's just say that I've had my eye on someone, and Rey's proved to be quite the nuisance. An unfortunate roadblock, to me getting my way."

Ben's seized by an ugly flash of jealousy upon hearing this. Hux is actually asking him to clear the way so he can fuck someone else, when all Ben wants is that person to be him.

His next words come out slightly strangled. "And why should I do that?"

Hux laughs, a silvery sound that causes Ben to shiver.

"Well, if you won't do it as a favor to me...then perhaps another wager is in order? I want you to bed Rey and then break up with her. If you fail, I win the keys to your precious car. And if you succeed, I'll finally give you what you've been wishing for all this time."

Ben's voice comes out in a squeak. "And what do you think that is?"

Hux laughs again, leaning forward, his breath hot against Ben's ear.

"Me. All of me. Every. single. bit."

Ben's head is swimming, and he's still having a difficult time processing everything Hux is saying. Maybe it's the warm, late afternoon sun, or it's the premium Hawaiian Black, or it's the images of him bending Hux over the outdoor seating and finally getting his way, but he can't wrap his head around what Hux is asking him to do.

"But why don't you just do it?"

Hux looks at Ben as if he were a silly child. "You know I don't have sex with girls."

Ben knew that. He thought about Phasma. Over six feet of leggy, buxom blonde, with the bluest eyes and the sharpest tongue, and an even greater sexual appetite and devious mind. Ben knows what it's like to have Phasma's mile-long legs and viselike thighs wrapped around his waist with nothing on besides a pair of 4-inch spiked, black, Alarc leather and mesh Louboutins digging into his hips, and he knows that if their best friend can't turn Hux onto the straight and narrow, no girl ever will.

Ben whispers. "You think that your ass- _that sex with you_ -is worth a hundred fifty grand?!"

Hux laughs, goading Ben. "What, you think you're going to lose?"

And then Ben looks at Hux- _really_ looks at Hux. It's like a flip switches, and suddenly all Ben can think about is how hot, filthy and deliciously sexy he is. His school-issued khakis just seem to fit a little tighter than most, and it's criminal the way they sit, lowered over the bony jut of his hips, hugging his perfect ass. His collar lays open, his pulse visible to the side, showing off the delicate line of his clavicle until it hollows out underneath his throat. His tie was loosened just so, begging to either pulled forward and off or to be slowly tightened until it's snug around that pale, thin neck.

Hux ran his tongue along his bottom lip as he caught Ben staring, and Ben nearly lets out a moan at it's plump moistness.

Hux was fucking gorgeous, and Ben knew he would do whatever it took to have him.

"I'll do it," he chokes out.

Hux's lips are suddenly on his, and the force of the kiss is enough to knock Ben back against the chair. Suddenly, those khaki pants are pressing into Ben's own, his zipper hard against his stiffening cock, with Hux's bony hip digging into his thigh. Hux tastes of smoke and cloves and sweetness, his lips thin and soft, yet cruel and hard, as his tongue swipes over Ben's lips and probes his mouth in an unrelenting assault of the senses.

Ben feels the hard line of their erections rubbing against one another, and he rolls his hips and grinds, and he's embarrassed at how turned on he is, so much so that it's all he can do to stop from coming in his pants from that sweet friction, until Hux pulls away, smirking.

 _"Fuck,_ Hux. _"_ Ben fights to keep his hips still at the sudden loss. Hux is looking down at him with an expression on his face as if to say, _You greedy cockslut,_ as Ben fights the desire to rut against the air, his eyes wild and pleading.

Hux sits back, picking up the cigarette he had put down to the side. He flicks the long line of ash, and as Ben watches the slow, receding glow, he notices that Hux's breath has quickened, that his fingers shake so very, very slightly, and that he's run his hand through his hair to smooth it back into place.

Hux looks at Ben for a minute. They stay silent, the air growing cooler as the sun begins to set, a reddish-orange hue against concrete blocks of grey.

Hux's face is half-covered in shadow. "Ben?" He sounds so innocent, even as his eyes flash dangerously.

Ben looks up. Wanting. Waiting.

Hux exhales, baring his teeth as he murmurs his words into Ben's throat.

"I guarantee that it would be worth every single fucking penny."


	2. Dameron if you do, Dameron if you don't

**Chapter 2 : Dameron if you do, Dameron if you don't**

 **Summary:**

It's September at Arkanis Preparatory Academy, and the school year starts off with a bang. Hux and Ben fix their sights on one Poe Dameron, for starters...

 **[excerpt]:**  
"More importantly, though, Finn had up until now looked at Hux with the same adoration he was now directing towards Poe. Even if Hux never reciprocated Finn's feelings, no one touches Hux's things without permission, and no one says its over until Hux decides that it's so."

 **~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~**

 **_September 2016_ **

"I missed you guys so much!" Phasma sighed, settling back comfortably against Hux's chest, his right arm casually draped across her shoulders.

Hux briefly ignored the press of the buttons from his blazer into his flesh as Phasma leaned against him. They had a sweeping view across the Dining Commons from their corner table, perfect for scrutinizing and scheming, and he intended to use it to his full advantage.

Hux ran his fingers idly through Phasma's hair, her blonde, silky locks nearly white in the sun. A subtle lemon scent filled the air from a nearby star magnolia, imbuing the early afternoon with an ephemeral quality.

"Yes. I imagine that hiking, drinking, and sunbathing your way around the Cinque Terre would be terribly boring," Ben drawled.

Phasma laughed, her face retaining the becoming golden tone which could only come from endless hours in the Riviera sun.

"It wasn't all play, you know. Immersion studies. Just one more thing to place on the college application."

Ben snorted. "As if you weren't already completely fluent in Italian since the eighth grade."

Phasma shrugged, conceding his point. She was not only fluent in Italian but also French, and spoke passably conversant German as well. She was also a lock for her top choice of Princeton, having a legacy which dated back to the mid-1800s and a library on campus which bore her great-grandfather's name.

"Well," she added with a wicked gleam in her eyes, "I never did say what type of immersion activity I indulged in with the locals."

Ben could only imagine. Phasma was like sex on legs. Beautiful, long, and shapely ones, at that.

The warmth of the sun intensified the citrusy smell as the muted din of the traffic hovered softly in the background.

Ben closed his eyes. There was a giddiness in the knowledge that this would be their last year. They were one step closer to adulthood, although from everything he's seen so far in his young life, Ben's not sure that adulthood is so very different, just greater consequences for bigger plays on a larger playground. But there is also a wistfulness in the realization that if everything goes according to plan, the three of them will soon be splintering off into different directions: to Princeton, Yale, and Brown.

Ben is entirely aware that he and Phasma are the closest thing to family that Hux has, and he wonders if there is a small part of Hux that isn't dreading the separation as well.

Hux was uncharacteristically quiet, as if reading Ben's thoughts. He leaned forward, pulling his tray towards him with more force than necessary as the orange and yellow baby carrots rolled along their lengths into the chimichurri sauce slicking the top and sides his pork chop. The tomato soup sloshed against the edges of his bowl, spilling onto the brown paper napkin until the slowly seeping and progressively enlarging stain rendered it soggy and useless.

He picked at the carrots, their texture not quite steamed enough. He stabbed at it with his fork, causing it to roll again.

Hux sighed, the petulant sound breaking through his normally cool deameanor. For all the organic, seasonally fresh, locally sourced and growth-hormone-and-antibiotic-free foods the executive and sous chef served as part of Arkanis Prep's outrageously priced meal plan, the quality and taste came across as a poor man's play on Thomas Keller, unfit to wipe the steps of _Per Se_.

Not to mention that _Per Se_ had the added bonus of beautiful waiters willing to risk their jobs to slip Hux their number, or better yet, sneak into the bathroom to suck him off against the hard, tiled walls, with Central Park's treeline at their backs.

Phasma sat back into her chair and uncrossed her legs, the movement causing her jacket to pull tightly against her breasts and the top several buttons of her oxford to gape. The three of them are all ridiculously tall, but Phasma's formidable height rivals that of anyone in the school, guy or girl. She's also too much woman to fit into the measurements of a standard school uniform. No matter what, the skirts come up just a bit too high, the fit around the hips a bit too tight, and the sleeves fall a bit too short, making her look like a schoolgirl straight out of a suburban dad's guilty porn fantasy. Ben's sure he's caught a couple of the male teachers stealing furtive glances at Phasma's shapeliness as well.

Phasma crosses her legs again, and Ben tries to peek under the table discretely as she shifts.

"Eyes up, Solo," she laughs, not missing a beat.

Ben grins, and looks pointedly at her chest. She hits him in his upper arm, laughing.

"You're an incorrigible perv."

Hux raised an eyebrow. "I'm wounded. I thought that's what you always call me."

Phasma nuzzles him affectionately.

"Ahhh, Hux. Why can't you be straight?" she asks, half-seriously.

Hux shrugs. He's more outwardly affectionate with Phasma than with practically anyone else, Ben included, probably because he knows that nothing more intimate could ever happen between them.

"Not the right parts, darling. Although you _do_ have a fantastic set of tits."

There was a chorus of laughter at the next table as three pairs of eyes followed the outburst of sound.

Finn's smiling as he sits with Dopheld Mitaka and another student who is new to their class. She's a pretty girl, her light brown hair pulled back into a messy bun that's starting to unfurl from its elastic enclosure so it droops down haphazardly into a series of loops. She has a bright smile, and a cute dusting of freckles across her cheek, but there's also a fierceness in her eyes and a defensiveness to her posture, as if she's waiting to be challenged or crossed.

Hux dismisses Mitaka immediately. Mitaka is a follower by nature, unthreatening and easily pliable. He files away his first impressions of the girl for future use before turning his attentions to Finn.

Finn is the son of the local weatherman who also fills in for a national morning news show in a pinch. Finn looks particularly handsome today, his dark skin smoothly flushed from the sun and his newly cropped hair accentuating his high cheekbones and the fullness of his lips. He's eagerly patting the seat next to him, and Hux's eyes narrow as another student approaches the group with a wide, toothy grin.

"Well, hello there." Phasma says with an interesting gleam in her eyes. "Who do we have here?"

Hux smiles tightly. "I believe that's Poe Dameron."

Ben turns around from his seat and his mouth nearly drops to the floor.

Ben's family has known Poe's for years. Poe's mother Shara was a former pilot with the Blue Angels, one of the few females to ever earn that honor. His father was Professor Kes Dameron, a handsome and brilliant aerospace engineer who helped design experimental X-planes for the United States Department of Defense. The last that Ben heard, Poe's family had moved to southern California, where Mr. Dameron headed up Specforce, a company specializing in the analysis and testing of various mechanical and aerospace systems.

The intervening years had been kind to Poe. With genes like that, it was easy to see how he would be blessed with both looks and swagger, but the last time that Ben had seen him, Poe was still hovering around that awkward prepubescent phase that even the best couldn't fully escape. He had since grown into the promise of the broadness of his chest and the strength of his limbs. His jaw was less soft and more squared, his hair a mass of riotous curls, and his eyes, always so expressive and soft, were now filled with confidence and a mischievous sense of humor.

"Shit! I didn't realize he was back in town."

Phasma looked at them both. "How is it that you boys know him, and I don't?"

Hux unscrewed the cap to his Voss water and took a sip, traces of tangerine and lemongrass washing over his palate as the bubbles burst and fizzed across his tongue.

"My dad was looking to acquire enough shares in Specforce to gain a controlling interest in the company. Mr. Dameron stopped by the apartment earlier this summer, and Poe was with him."

If Hux had a type, it was pretty and beautiful, sophisticated and worldy. Even Ben, despite his tall stature and wide shoulders had a sloped chin and sensual mouth and a loping grace which Hux found appealing. Poe was not Hux's type physically, but despite his more conventional masculinity, there was an optimism and good-heartedness about him that had proved fascinating for Hux.

Fascinating enough for Hux to temporarily entertain the idea of allowing Poe to become the fourth member of his coterie with Phasma and Ben.

Temporarily, because in the span of less than the five minutes, Poe had successively declined Hux's offer of a cigarette, refused his overture of a drink, rejected an invitation to go clubbing over the weekend, and generally looked less than enamored with Hux's considerable charms.

Because, Poe had added apologetically, _he was_ _not into those kind of things_.

Hux's kind of things.

Sanctimonious prick.

Poe's deep and throaty laugh floats above the conversational din in the courtyard, his attention directed entirely on Finn. He's smiling at something Finn says, leaning over intently as he places his hand close by. And when Hux sees the adoring look that's on Finn's face in return, he is filled with the sudden realization that he _hates_ Poe.

It's not like Hux and Finn were ever going out, or that Hux was even emotionally invested in him in the slightest. Finn doesn't have Phasma's _my-family's-been-here-since-the-Mayflower_ or Ben's _I'm-related-to-royalty-in-at-least-five-countries_ wealth or influence. Finn's also a little too easy to read and too unpolished to maintain Hux's interest for long. But what started out as a drunken experiment during a party in the Hamptons this past summer ended up with Finn beneath him and surprisingly eager in the sack, with the bonus of incredible stamina and an insatiable desire to please. Even if it only remained a one-off, the potential of a repeat performance would be a shame to lose.

More importantly, though, Finn had up until now looked at Hux with the same adoration he was now directing towards Poe. Even if Hux never reciprocated Finn's feelings, no one touches Hux's things without permission, and no one says its over until Hux decides that it's so.

 **~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~**

"Listen. I think Poe may be a virgin."

Ben looked up from his phone, unsure if he had heard Hux correctly. He nearly stepped off the curb, the angry blare from a yellow cab pulling him back onto the sidewalk and out of harm's way.

"What?!" He tucked his phone back in his bag, and opened his jacket as he started to sweat under the heat.

Hux looks at Ben conspiratorially. "Wouldn't that be a great way to start off the year? Giving Poe a good and proper welcome to fabulous Arkanis Prep? Letting him join the six-inch deep club?"

Ben laughed. "Speak for yourself. More like the eight-inch deep club, if you know what I mean."

Hux fails to hide his snort as Ben frowned.

"What makes you think he's a virgin anyway? Or that he even likes cock?"

"Are you kidding me? Did you see the way he was looking at Finn?"

"I don't know, Hux. The whole thing feels kind of weird, I mean, his family's known mine forever. I never really thought about him in that way." Ben leans in a little closer to Hux. "I'd rather spend my time-um-getting to know someone else."

Hux fights the urge to roll his eyes at Ben's barely concealed desire. Sometimes Ben is utterly predictable. Hux has noted Ben's increasingly suggestive comments and his occasionally shy stares, which have increased in frequency in the past two years. There is no question that their friendship and competition has somehow turned the corner into an infatuation with the idea of sleeping with Hux. Or possibly, of _owning_ Hux.

Hux's awareness has proved to be extremely useful. At the same time, Ben's desires are something that should be handled with great caution.

Hux considers his next words carefully, wondering just how much such an act will alter the dynamics of his relationship with Ben. It's an intimate one, for sure, but it's nothing that either of them haven't indulged in separately, or even frequently, especially when they've spent the night out partying, intoxicated and high.

They've just never done it with each other. But the idea of corrupting Poe-of corrupting such goodness, while exacting revenge-is too much for Hux to pass up.

"How about this?" he asks with a sangfroid he doesn't necessarily feel. "Whoever pops Poe's cherry, the other has to give him a blow job."

Hux realizes that the whole idea is juvenile. It lacks finesse, and in some ways, he feels that it is beneath him.

But Ben's curiosity is piqued. Ben loves sex: girls, guys, pussy, dick, the feel of fucking and of being fucked. And he particularly loves the idea of sex with Hux.

Ben also knows that this was a bet he was going to win. Hux, although sneaky, doesn't do subtle well. There was always an undercurrent of threat and danger to him, which, while attractive to some-Ben included-was definitely not Poe's M.O. He can easily imagine Poe's eyes widening and then hardening into a mixture of worry and distaste at Hux's advances, Hux's knowing grin and superior demeanor a turn off instead of a turn on.

Ben, however, did sweet, familiar, and comfortable. It was a role he could play so very, very well.

It starts off slow. In the first week, Ben talks with Poe about their families. They catch up on the things that they have done in the intervening years, and Ben finds that it's so easy for Poe to open up and share. He sits next to him in class, sharing his notes and asking questions as Poe smiles at him with such warmth and trust, all the while ignoring the strange looks that Finn throws their way.

Ben moves on next to the interests which they have in common—Asian underground and Bongo flava beats, sci-fi stories and action movies, and artistic and culturally brilliant comics and anime. And when Ben finds out that the Landmark Sunshine Cinema is having a midnight showing of 1981's Heavy Metal in Theater One, he jumps at the chance to go, and Poe takes the leap with him

They settle into the plush stadium seats, a bucket of the Landmark's classic popcorn held in a plastic-coated container in between Ben's legs. It's warm and perfectly popped, layered in melted butter and sprinkled with just the right amount of salt. They have a slushie each to the side, its refreshing coolness a balm against the dryness of the popped corn even as the ices melt and paint their tongues a bright red. It's all very sweet, and Ben experiences a slight prickling of his conscience at the idea of seducing Poe. But he rationalizes that he never promised Poe anything more than his friendship and a good time, and that plus the thought of Hux's lips on his cock soon outweighs anything else, as he adjusts the position of his long legs against the mild stickiness of the floor.

The movie starts, and Ben and Poe are assaulted with a kaleidoscope of color against a background of pulsing metal rock and sex. They watch enraptured, a visionary fantasy of otherworldly ethos and violence. Their hands reach into the bucket, the warm kernels occasionally slipping through their fingers, evading their fumbling grasps. And when Ben pulls out a particularly large handful, a stray one tumbles out from the others and finds its way into Poe's lap.

Ben reaches over to pick it up. His hand is warm on Poe's thigh, and Poe's breath hitches as the back of Ben's hand grazes Poe's burgeoning erection before traveling up towards his mouth. Poe watches as Ben opens his mouth slowly, his lips moistened and glistening and stained a bright cherry red. His face flames as Ben places the wayward piece on his tongue, wrapping himself around its puffy margins, slowly licking the butter which has trickled down the lengths of his fingers and in between. Ben's lips are gently parted, and his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows the moistened, greasy, spit-coated kernel down the long line of his throat.

There is a quick intake of breath as Poe's eyes dilate, the movie relegated to an after thought as he continues to watch Ben from underneath his beautifully long lashes, mesmerized. Poe lifts his right hand, and his fingers curl hesitantly against Ben's own, hovering on the corner of Ben's mouth and those full, luscious, and perfect lips.

 _Gotcha_ , Ben thinks.

Ben leans in and tastes, laving Poe's fingers with the roughness and insistency of his tongue, sucking hungrily until he's lapped up every single drop of Poe's essence, so buttery and salty and sticky sweet.


	3. Liquid Courage

**Chapter 3 : Liquid Courage**

 **Summary:**

With the help of Amsterdam's finest and a willing Poe, Ben wins the bet.

 **[excerpt]:**  
 **Sat, 9/17/16**  
I win tonight 10:26 PM  
... _Yeah? Bring proof 10:32 PM_  
What kind? 10:32 PM  
... _NMP. U figure it out 10:37 PM_

... **Sun, 9/18/16**  
... _U get it yet? 12:34 AM_

Yeah 12:37 AM"

 **~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~**

 _ **September 24, 2016** _

Normally, Ben avoided driving onto the bridge and tunnels and out of Manhattan for a destination in the outer boroughs, but any party hosted by Fabian Van der Kolk warranted an exception to the rule. Fabian was three years older and a scion of New York society; the perennial cool kid whose lavish parties and legendary exploits made him a favorite among the gossipmongers of Page Six. Fabulously wealthy and a living embodiment of an idealized American aesthetic, he wore his masculine beauty with an insouciant pride. People naturally gravitated towards him-bluebloods, hipsters, and slacktivists alike-and when an invitation from Fabian went out, people came.

Ben spotted Phasma immediately. The bass pounded and slid deep into his chest as he cut through the throngs of the young and beautiful, their scantily clad bodies pressing up against him as they writhed to the beat.

"Hey!" Ben shouted, grabbing her arm as he leaned in for a kiss. He leaned back, letting out a low whistle.

"Shit, Phasma, you look incredible."

"Thanks, Solo," she grinned. Her eyes were already dilated, and she was teetering a bit precariously on her five-inch Vivier heels. She tousled the fringe of Ben's hair, her hand brushing against the nape of his neck.

"You're looking pretty hot, yourself," she added, purring as she rested her hand against his chest. Ben's shirt was just on this side of being too tight, and the cut was doing wonders for the breadth of his shoulders and the strength of his pecs.

"Are you planning on drinking?" she asked.

Ben smirked. "Perhaps. Why, you have something better for me?"

Phasma bent down her head in response as she opened up her minaudiere and placed a vial in Ben's palm. The liquid inside it was clear, reflecting the changing colors of the overhead LED lights.

Ben raised an eyebrow. "From Snoke?"

Phasma snorted. "Of course! With all the tainted batches out there, I wouldn't think of buying from anyone else." She sighed, leaning closer, her hardened nipples grazing his chest. "That should be good for at least four or five hits. You up for getting together later?" She pressed against him suggestively.

Ben shook his head, with a bit of regret. Phasma was usually not this blatantly eager, and a fuck with her always left him feeling immensely satisfied and pleasurably sore.

"Sorry Phasma, not tonight. I'm looking to have some fun with a particular redhead instead."

Phasma pouted prettily. "You know Hux doesn't do this stuff, right?"

Ben nodded. Hux drank and Hux smoked, but his indulgences always came factory packaged and adorned with a commercial label. He never did bags or vials, no matter how supposedly good or pure, because not only did he not trust someone to slip him something that could land him half-dead in the middle of the street, but he could never trust himself to lose that much control.

"Not _that_ kind of fun," Ben clarified.

"Well I'd hate to break it to you, but you'd better hurry then," Phasma said, her smile brightening as she spied a potential conquest on the other side of the room. She inclined her head to the right. "Looks like you have some competition."

Ben turned. Hux was dancing with Fabian, their bodies undulating with a feral grace. Ben flushed as things slowed to a time-warped slurry, Hux's expression gradually turning half-lidded and slack with pleasure as he arched into the other boy's embrace.

 _No_. Hux was supposed to be his tonight. It should be Ben-Ben's hands gripping the sides of Hux's narrowed hips, Ben's mouth sucking at the curve of Hux's exposed neck, and Ben's crotch grinding against the length of Hux's straining prick.

Ben's heart raced and his body thrummed as he imagined himself thrusting in between those softly parted lips.

His hands shook and his cock ached as the haloed lights grew more intense all around. He sipped from the vial and waited for his world to tilt, shivering slightly as he savored the salty promise of things to come.

 **~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~**

 _ **September 17, 2016**_

They lay side by side, squished together in the confines of Poe's full-sized mattress, languid and high.

"Mmmm, am still hungry, hand it over," Ben said. He leaned across, grabbing at the nearly empty sleeve of cookies that Poe was holding hostage over the edge of the bed.

Poe laughed playfully. "You've already eaten almost all of it." He shook the plastic wrap teasingly, the broken sweet remains rattling around the one lone survivor. "Is it my fault you're so greedy with everything?" Poe sighed reproachfully, glancing at the remainder of his California AK-47, which now sat in the sodden ends of the stubbed out joint.

Ben swiped at his arm, causing the sleeve to jump and its contents to spill out over Poe's chest. They both dove in for the last cookie, Poe winning and popping it in his mouth.

"Not so fast," Ben said, his eyes dancing wickedly as he slanted his lips over Poe's.

It started out gentle, soft and sweet. Poe's breath came out in vanilla-scented huffs as Ben grew more insistent, his tongue licking the sugary corners of Poe's mouth before working its way inside. The air was filled with the smell of lingering ganja and the sounds of their sloppy licks, as Ben tugged impatiently at the hem of Poe's shirt to reach the heated skin underneath.

Poe's eyes widened. His dark curls were plastered against his face, and a sheen of sweat appeared above his upper lip. His face read like an open book, flushed with his unquestionable desire.

"Ben." His name came out with a croak.

"Are you sure your parents are going to be out for awhile?" Ben asked, nipping at his neck.

Poe's eyes were already half-lidded. "Yeah...they're at some departmental fundraiser. They won't be back for hours." He reached out shakily. "Please, Ben, I want you, I've wanted this for so long..."

They pulled off their shirts as Ben pushed up against Poe, reveling in the weight of his body against Poe's bared chest. It took a simple roll of Ben's hips to get Poe's cock to fully stiffen, its velvety length flushed hard against the teeth and denim of his jeans.

" _Need you_. Please," Poe begged.

Ben knew exactly what Poe needed, even though Poe's inexperience and self-consciousness would not allow him to verbalize what his body was so willingly expressing. Ben's fingers worked the fastenings of Poe's pants hastily as he slid his hand behind the waistband and fisted the swollen cock underneath.

Poe tilted his hips up instantly, seeking friction against Ben's hand.

"God, Ben! I want-" He stopped, biting his lip, canting his hips once more.

Ben leaned down, his breath hot against the shell of Poe's ear. Poe's cock twitched in his grasp.

"What do you want, Poe?"

"I want-I want you to..." Poe swallowed, squeezing his eyes.

"Yes, Poe?" Ben kept his voice low, a controlled, sensual drawl.

"Oh God, I want you to _get me off_. I want you to make me come. _Please_ ," he begged, whimpering.

"And how do you want me to do that?" he asked as he removed Poe's jeans.

Poe didn't answer as Ben began to stroke. Poe's shaft lengthened and swelled in response, and Ben's grip growing firmer and faster as Poe let out several throaty gasps.

"Do you want me to jerk you off?" Ben teased as he slid down Poe's naked body, resting in between his legs. He nuzzled area between Poe's thighs as Poe tried to angle himself towards Ben's mouth.

"Or perhaps you want me to suck you off?" The tip of his tongue darted out, tasting the pearly drop of precome which had collected in the slit of Poe's cock. He teased and licked his way around the head, kissing and licking it gently until he gave in and took Poe fully into the warmth of his mouth.

" _Fuck!"_ Poe cried. He bucked into Ben, trying to drive himself deeper into that filthy mouth, his hands fisting Ben's hair.

Poe couldn't help the whine of disappointment that escaped as Ben released him after a few more expert sucks.

Poe watched helplessly as Ben proceeded to place two of his fingers into his mouth. He rested them against the wideness of his lips, already so swollen and wet, laving them with his spit before sucking them down between his teeth.

"Turn around for me, Poe," he ordered. "On your hands and knees."

Poe hesitated, glancing down at the huge line pushing at the front of Ben's jeans.

Ben licked his fingers suggestively, brushing them against the space between Poe's cheeks. "Let me make you feel good," he crooned.

Poe turned over slowly, his body tense in anticipation. Ben massaged his buttocks, kneading the flesh as he pulled them apart, his fingers trailing a line of spit along Poe's perineum before coming to a rest against his pink and puckered hole.

Ben draped his body over Poe, his mouth grazing the line of his neck, his tongue sucking the skin above Poe's visibly bounding pulse. He resumed stroking Poe's turgid shaft with one hand, while the other pressed against and circled around Poe's tight and virginal ring. Poe's breathing grew erratic as he pushed back against Ben's hand, his hips tilting up, trying to draw Ben in.

"Lube," Poe managed "Top drawer."

Ben leaned over, failing to hide his grin. The bottle weighed heavy in his hand, used but nearly three-quarters full. He slathered his fingers with the viscous gel, returning to the space between Poe's cheeks as he rested a digit against the softly furled hole.

Poe's breath hitched at the near-intrusion, his cock twitching in anticipation.

"Have you done this before?" Ben asked, pushing gently.

"No. Well, yes, I mean just a couple of times, by myself," Poe added, blushing furiously. "Never with anyone else."

"And do you want to do it? With someone else?" Ben's voice lowered into a throaty growl. "Do you want someone else's fingers up your ass, slowly fucking you open?"

" _God, yes_. I want it. I want your fingers, I want to feel them inside me, I want to feel you fucking me with them right now." Poe was beginning to babble, his tongue loosened by the weed as well as the though of Ben's strong hands hitting an area he was never able to reach on his own.

Poe's mouth opened at the sweet pressure as Ben obliged, slowly working his hole. He scissored that ring of muscle and Poe's tight sheath, until he was eventually three fingers in and two knuckles deep. Ben stared at the sight as he fucked Poe with a steady hand, his fingers slicking in and out of that warm channel, the lube spilling obscenely from the edge of Poe's puffy hole. Ben's cock was achingly hard, and he knew it wouldn't be long before he would be rutting into Poe's ass, where his fingers were currently buried so deep.

He removed his hand. Poe's face squirmed at the obscene, sucking sound, wincing at the sudden emptiness which accompanied their release. Ben pulled down his jeans and whipped out his cock, hastily coating it with lube before placing it in the valley Poe's muscular globes. Poe clenched and flexed, and Ben let out a groan as he slid up and down that well-lubricated cleft.

Poe wriggled, his hand flying to his prick. He thrust back as he pumped into his fist, the sensation of Ben's pistoning cock against his sensitive skin both overwhelming and yet not enough. He looked back, pupils blown, his lips dry as he pleaded.

"Please, please, _please_.."

"Please what?" Ben rolled his hips as he gave another thrust.

"You're doing so well, Poe. How do you want to come? Do you want me to fuck you between your thighs, or like this? Do you want to feel my come dripping out from between your cheeks?"

" _Fuck me, Ben. I want you to fuck me in the ass, fuck me for real, please,_ " Poe finally cried.

Ben always loved that feeling as he first entered-that incredible tightness, that silky warmth as it surrounded his dick. He watched Poe still from the initial burn, followed by the eventual relaxation as the pain of intrusion morphed into something more sweet.

Poe began to wriggle and Ben moved, his cock slick and reddened as it slid in and out of Poe's tight heat. He could feel Poe's rising excitement as his hips slammed back, his leaking cock jutting forward into the air every time Ben plowed deep.

Poe's entire body strained, his muscles pulling taut as if chasing something just beyond his reach.

" _Fuck Ben! I'm so close, I need to come, fuckfuck!"_

The words tumbled out of Poe's lips, a torrent of sound which echoed the roar in his head. Ben thrust into him repeatedly, their bodies slick with sweat, their movements stuttered and uncontrolled. He leaned forward, sliding his tongue along the angle of Poe's jaw as he groaned into his ear.

" _Come for me, Poe_."

Ben reached down, giving Poe's desperate cock two quick strokes. Poe's stiffened and let out a throaty cry, his body shuddering as he spurt, his come coating Ben's hand. Ben quickly followed as Poe clenched around him, his cock pumping into Poe's ass and filling him with his warm and sticky mess.

Ben slowed as his orgasm faded, his softening prick sliding readily as he rutted slowly against Poe's well-fucked hole. He grunted happily when he finally pulled out, flopping onto his back with a satisfied grin.

Poe looked up, the remnants of their sex still seeping out between his thighs.

" _Thank you_ ," he whispered, pulling Ben towards him for a kiss.

Ben didn't reply, drawing Poe against him instead. Poe curled up onto his side, his head resting sleepily on Ben's bare chest. His lids grew heavy as his breathing steadied, Ben's heart beating softly into his ear.

The stillness was broken half an hour later by Poe's gentle snoring and a buzzing light. Ben sat up, gently extricating his arm as he read Hux's incoming text.

 **Sat, 9/17/16**

 _ **I win tonight** _ **10:26 PM**

 _Yeah? Bring proof_ 10:32 PM

 _ **What kind?** _ **10:32 PM**

 _NMP. U figure it out 10:37 PM_

 **Sun, 9/18/16**

 _U get it yet?_ 12:34 AM

Ben moved towards the edge of the bed and aimed his phone over Poe's naked and slumbering form. His fingers remained remarkably steady as he took a deep breath and clicked.

 ** _Yeah._** **12:37 AM**

 **~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~**

 _ **September 24, 2016** _

Hux stared at Ben, his green eyes narrowed and with a look of abject disapproval on his face as he took in Ben's blown pupils and sweaty brow.

Ben took a deep breath as he tried to return Hux's gaze, his eyes going slightly wide then becoming fuzzed together.

It was cooler and quieter here, away from the maddening crowd. Hux remained calm and collected, despite the fact that he was practically dragged into a now-locked room, his back pressed up against the wall.

"Hux," Ben grated, his eyes finally locking on Hux's pale visage.

"Benjamin." Hux drawled. "I've been busy chatting up Fabian for the last 20 minutes, and you've managed to destroy all my efforts in less than one."

"Doesn't look like you were busy doing any _'chatting_ ,' _Armitage_ ," Ben growled in response.

Those green eyes narrowed further. "What's it to you, anyway?"

"You owe me, Hux. And I want to collect. Tonight."

Hux sighed, as if dealing with a recalcitrant child.

"You didn't carry me off like a Neanderthal because of Dameron, did you? It's completely _rude_."

"You owe me," Ben repeated stubbornly. "I did my part. I fucked Poe, I won. I even got you the proof."

"Yes, well. It was quite the eyeful, I must say. Although your composition could use some work."

Ben looked at him angrily. "Well, I'm glad to hear you got such a good look. Hope you committed it to memory, 'cause I deleted it."

Hux scoffed. "Nothing is irretrievable, Ben. And don't tell me you didn't enjoy it, while you were at it."

"I'll tell you what I'd enjoy more. Get down on your knees and put that mouth to better use."

Hux leaned in closely, so close that Ben could make out the gin and vermouth laced with a hint of Angostura orange on his breath.

"I think I like you like this, Benjamin." he said, moving forward as he pushed Ben's back against the sink. "So angry and prickly. So domineering. And yet so very, very…needy."

His hand dipped down and brushed over the front of Ben's crotch. Ben swallowed as his cock filled and pressed uncomfortably against his jeans. He let out a moan as his hips tilted forward to chase Hux's touch.

Hux laughed. "You're such a slut for it, aren't you?"

Ben moaned again at the truth of Hux's words, the anticipation of what's to come sizzling like a struck matchead right before it bursts into a hot flame.

Ben's hands flew impatiently, tugging his zipper down.

"Suck it," he said, pulling out his cock, grasping it by its half-hard base.

Hux's pale brows arched, raised so high that they were nearly hidden beneath the fringe of his well-coiffed hair.

"Eloquent as usual, Solo," he smirked, his lips nearly touching Ben's before he dropped to his knees.

Hux stared at Ben's cock, his warm breath hot against its twitching head. Ben watched mesmerized as Hux's pink tongue darted out, licking and flattening along the underside of the shaft. Ben's cock swelled and purpled in response.

"Stop teasing. Put it in," Ben ordered petulantly.

Hux rolled his eyes, taking Ben's hard length deep inside his mouth as he dragged it against his tongue. He hollowed out his cheeks and sucked, his hair glinting a reddish-gold under the lights, his head bobbing expertly in between Ben's thighs.

Ben ran fingers through the silky strands, the colors shifting as they slipped through his grasp. Hux glanced up, his emerald eyes hooded, his lips stretched and reddened as they worked their way up and down Ben's shaft.

 _Oh my God._ Ben could come from watching Hux, how those wet lips were wrapped and stretched around Ben's thick prick. He fantasized about pulling out and shooting his spunk all over Hux's pale skin, breaking Hux of his cool expression as he painted those lovely, swollen lips.

Ben rolled his hips. He arched back, reveling in the obscenely wet sounds emanating from Hux's mouth; the incredible tightness surrounding his cock, and the dribble of saliva every time he hit the back of Hux's throat.

" _Fuck, Hux_ ," he rasped, his voice low and rough. Ben's eyes were nearly black, rimmed in a tawny gold. His heart was hammering against his ribs, his body strung out and taut, straining against the echoing sounds and the incandescent lights which blinded him as he pounded Hux's face.

 _"OhmyGod, fuuuuck!"_ Ben steadied himself against Hux's head, holding himself deep, his eyes rolling as he started to come.

He was floating-the last spurts wrung out from his softening prick, spilling into Hux's warm and swollen mouth as his vision slowly recovered from its whitened haze. Hux stood, quickly wiping the front of his jeans, his tongue licking the last traces of his come from his lips. He reached up, his delicate fingers carding his hair and brushing each wayward strand back into place.

Ben felt the disappointment crashing in on his high. He grimaced as he tucked in his flaccid cock.

"Well, then," Hux said turning, his hand reaching for the door.

Ben's anger swelled as he grabbed Hux's outstretched arm.

"What's your rush?" Ben used his height and strength advantage to turn Hux around and pin him against the door.

Hux looked at Ben coolly, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Ben's shoulders sagged. This wasn't what he wanted, it wasn't how this night was supposed to end. What he wanted was to wipe that calm look off of Hux's face. He wanted Hux panting and moaning underneath his mouth and his hands. He wanted that red hair mussed, that pale skin flushed, and that supercilious demeanor wrecked until those tightly pressed lips fell open and Hux was begging like a whore.

Ben lowered his mouth-his hair tickling the side of Hux's cheek, his teeth nipping furiously at the line of his pale throat. Hux shifted quietly, his breath deepening as Ben reached down to cup his crotch.

Ben inhaled, the spiciness of Hux's scent soaring over the bleachy sharpness of the bathroom tiles and the heady, musky notes of his growing arousal. The faucet dripped, the thick droplets beating a steady rhythm to Ben's angry grunts and Hux's silent sighs. He tore at Hux's jeans, rucking them around his thighs, grasping his perfect prick and holding its glorious weight in his hand.

Hux's eyes darkened and his nostrils flared. Ben lowered himself to his knees, taking Hux's cock in his mouth. He moaned in delight as he tasted that salty, smooth flesh for the first time, reddened and hot and raw. Hux let out a gasp; he moved his hips, thrusting himself deeper as he worked his way to the back of Ben's throat. Ben gagged and choked, trying to hold his breath steady around Hux's length as the fullness filled that space behind his eyes.

There was a quickening of Hux's breath, his insolence replaced by a lust and possessiveness as he gazed down at Ben. He reached out slowly, his thumb stroking gently, tracing the upward turn of his cheek. Ben moaned at the gesture and leaned into his touch; the sound vibrated deeply around Hux's cock and he thrust, unable to keep his hips from pistoning as he gripped Ben's head, holding him down. The walls echoed with Ben's wet, sucking noises and Hux's stifled moans, and Hux's lids fluttered shut as he shuddered and came.

 _"Ben."_ Hux's voice was hoarse and breathless as he finally unraveled, the lone word hovering in the air. Ben stood triumphantly upon hearing the sound. He leaned forward, cupping Hux's jaw as he tasted his mouth, rejoicing in the redhead's honey-sweet lips while ignoring the ghost of the orange bitters that coated his tongue.


End file.
